


In Time

by heartinatrophy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Canon Compliant, Future Fic, M/M, progression of their relationship, references to songs throughout, they're flipping idiots they don't know they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 10:46:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6235630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartinatrophy/pseuds/heartinatrophy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their paths cross continually, as most fated paths do, but neither pay heed to the wisdom of the universe. You’re destined, you two. Accept it, says the universe. </p><p>They put in headphones and drown out their fate.</p><p>It will work out, says the universe.</p><p>It will work out, all in good time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Time

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly just so excited about Kyouhaba interactions in the anime

**Act I**

It starts when their tempers are high and their eyes are wild, and the chemicals in their brains fire at the speed of light and, afterwards, they avoid each other and pretend as if nothing has happened. It was a mistake, they say to themselves. We were caught up in the moment, says one. Bullshit, argues the other. They don’t agree. Never have.

Their paths cross continually, as most fated paths do, but neither pay heed to the wisdom of the universe. You’re destined, you two. Accept it, says the universe.

They put in headphones and drown out their fate.

Often, too often, they argue. The universe worries sometimes, worries that they were wrong, that these two are not fated, but then they see the soft looks and fleeting tender touches, and they are content. For, you see, the gazes and the contact are more frequent than the arguing, but the bitter yelling fills the spaces of the relationship that the two haven’t yet worked out for themselves.

It will work out, says the universe.

In time.

All in good time.

//

**Act II**

_And my love is yours but your love's not mine_

_So I'll go but we know I'll see you down the line_

_And we'll hate what we've lost but we'll love what we find_

_And I'm feeling fine, we've made it to the coastline_

Everyone assumes that Kyoutani Kentarou, the fierce third year wing spiker at Aoba Jousai High School, listens to hard drums and heavy bass and screaming vocals, but he has a penchant for music that makes the world a little softer. If that means he listens to a lot of love songs by default, so be it. It’s not as though anyone will find out - after all, they’re too terrified to approach him. In the mornings and afternoons he practices volleyball in the school gym, and in-between he sits in class and wishes he was somewhere else. Before he goes home to his grandmother in the evenings he visits a public bathroom and washes off the eyeliner he’d carefully applied in the same bathroom in the morning. It’s an easy routine, even if it does make him ache for something more.

Yahaba Shigeru lives on a different plane of existence. His family is large, his house is large, everyone smiles and laughs and eats good food. When everyone is laughing and smiling, Yahaba has a tendency to slip up to his room and cover up the laughter with hard drums and heavy bass and screaming vocals. Everyone would expect him to listen to something a little softer, since he never presents himself as any less than the perfect son, the perfect student, and the perfect empathetic, yet stern, captain. But he wants to escape into a life where he doesn’t have to be any of that, because the responsibility is slowly suffocating him, and his will to continue living like that is slipping.

* * *

 

“Chance ball!”

Everyone’s heavy steps, laden with anticipation and concentration, squeak on the polished floor as they get into position. The team is precise in their movements, and every attack is thought out well in advance. There is room for modification throughout the game, of course, but their play style has changed from the previous year. It was impossible to try and rely on the tactics of an absent captain.

Like clockwork, methodical and precise in their movements, Aobajousai had been winning match after match. Kyoutani was a large part of the success, and Yahaba acknowledged that with smiles in his direction when the other wasn’t looking, and small nudges and whispers of praise. He knows he needs to be more gentle with Kyoutani, to make more of an effort to get along with him, after their conflict last year.

On the court, Kyoutani rears up and slams the ball onto the court with so much force it rebounds into the stands. The whistle blows, and another game is won. There is only one team left to face.

The exhausted team bows and makes their way off the court, cheering for each other and clapping each other on the back. Kyoutani slaps Yahaba on the back so hard the captain pitches forward. Kyoutani is too strong for his own good. He doesn’t smile when they win, because he doesn’t like how he looks when he smiles, but he tries to look content, because that’s how he feels. Even if his team doesn’t know everything about him, they want him around and make an effort to talk to him and understand him, which is more than what anyone else has tried to do.

After the game Kyoutani sits next to Yahaba on the bus, who falls asleep listening to his music. Because he has nothing better to do, and because Yahaba both annoys and intrigues him, he takes an earbud from Yahaba’s ear and raises it to his own.

_I've been searching for an exit, but I'm lost inside my head;_

_Where I spend every waking moment wishing I was dead._

_For a few minutes get me away from here,_

_For a few minutes (wipe away) wipe away my tears._

Kyoutani drops the earbud and moves as close to the window as possible. He is confused, and spends much of the bus trip staring at Yahaba and wondering what parts of the puzzle of his captain he is missing.

* * *

 

As the shadow of graduation grows longer and longer and threatens to eclipse Yahaba and Kyoutani, they find themselves at each other’s sides more frequently than they would have imagined. Kyoutani has to help Yahaba with maths, lest he fail and not get into his preferred medicine course. Yahaba tutors Kyoutani in Japanese, simply because his grades are awful and he’ll never be accepted into any good university with marks like this. Kyoutani stares at Yahaba while he explains historical context for something important, and wonders if their lives are meant to revolve around education.

“University isn’t important. You don’t need to try so hard.”

Yahaba smiles wanly and looks sadly at Kyoutani. Here, in this small house with only a grandmother as company, of course university isn’t important. His hands slide over the table to cover Kyoutani’s. His life is so different, he doesn’t have the same pressures on him to succeed, and Yahaba envies him so.

“You don’t need to try hard, but I have to.” He smiles sadly, and squeezes Kyoutani’s hand. It’s wrong, he knows, to want to keep holding on to Kyoutani, so he pretends he’s normal and he pulls his hands away. Kyoutani’s fingers ghost towards him as though they already miss the touch. Yahaba turns away so he can compose himself.

Kyoutani’s hands fall to his lap, and he stares at them for what feels like a long time. Yahaba’s life is none of his business, but it should be. It would feel right, Kyoutani thinks, if they knew more about each other. Yahaba had a soft smile and a soft face and a soft touch, and he was all that Kyoutani needed. When he was with Yahaba he felt as though he had more purpose. “You should listen to happier music. You deserve it.” He blushed, because he was admitting to listening to Yahaba’s without his knowledge, and he was paying him a compliment.

Yahaba blushed as well, because Kyoutani with his hard exterior and eyeliner and stripy hair was so tough and firm, and the compliment was making him melt. The atmosphere around them changes, carrying more weight and the possibility of happiness with it. But Kyoutani and Yahaba are young, and foolish, and they both hide their blushes and go back to work and don’t speak of what passed between them, or what could have.

* * *

 

The day that Aobajousai lose to Karasuno, their nemesis, Yahaba sobs and holds onto Kyoutani’s shirt as though he’s afraid to let go and face reality. Kyoutani doesn’t cry, he thinks he’s devoid of tears at this point in his life; he wasted them all in his childhood. But his face still scrunches up and his eyes sting when the third years line up to bow to the crowd of parents, students and friends. The team eats dinner together, then they part ways, each as devastated as the next about their loss.

Kyoutani and Yahaba walk home together, the backs of their hands brushing together tenderly. It is silent, but it isn’t – they both listen to music to help them stay composed.

Kyoutani listens to a love song and thinks of Yahaba.

Yahaba listens to a break-up song and thinks of Kyoutani.

_One night to be confused_

_One night to speed up truth_

_We had a promise made_

_Four hands and then away_

They spare fleeting glances at one another, but if their eyes catch they both rip their gaze away to stare at something less important.

* * *

 

Time is fickle, and it abuses each and every man differently. Senior graduation is upon Yahaba and Kyoutani, and although they are on the cusp of a breakthrough into something important and spectacular, life draws their attention away from each other. Yahaba’s family celebrates his acceptance into a well-reputed medicine course, and Kyoutani begins packing his bags to move to Tokyo for a construction apprenticeship. The graduating members of the volleyball club are treated to a goodbye party, and afterwards Yahaba embraces Kyoutani and whispers sweet nothings and empty promises in his ear.

When he leaves, Kyoutani is left with nothing but impressions of Yahaba’s scent and an overwhelming feeling that he’s missing something. 

Then Kyoutani leaves Sendai, and Yahaba starts his degree at Tohoku. The world keeps turning.

 

_Slowly we fade_

_Slowly it fades_

_Slowly we fade_

_Slowly it fades_

//

**Act 3**

The universe is cruel, and fate doubly so.

 

* * *

 

 

In loving memory of

Watari Shinji

April 3, 1997 – September 17, 2023

If it had been ten years down the line, Kyoutani wouldn’t have attended the funeral. By then he would have made happier memories than his high school days, but he feels a sense of duty to iron his only suit and take a plane back to Sendai. He doesn’t call it home anymore.

The suit is too tight and he stands pressed up against a crying woman and an apathetic man in the temple. He can’t manage the same level of grief as the mass of mourning friends and family. The eulogy is heartfelt and a flattering tribute to Watari, but Kyoutani listens to it and it sounds like they’re talking about a stranger. Cigarettes are placed next to Watari in his coffin. Kyoutani never picked him as a smoker. The funeral smells like fresh flowers and incense, but it feels like slow death and anxiety. Kyoutani scans the crowd, but he can’t see anyone else he recognizes.

Once the coffin has been sealed and rolled into the hearse, the family departs and the mood drops. Everyone must have been maintaining a façade for them. Kyoutani decides it is best to leave. He outgrew this place and this suit years ago.

There is suddenly a hand at his elbow, a warm and familiar touch that Kyoutani had become dedicated to forgetting. He turns.

“Yahaba.” He breathes his name like he breathes air.

“Kyoutani. You came back.” He sounds flat, and Kyoutani wonders what extinguished the spark of a boy he knew in high school. Yahaba’s face is the same, but his eyes are as glassy and lifeless as Watari’s. Kyoutani has missed seeing his face.

_I said: David don't you think it's strange?_

_While you were in your dark room_

_How the world went and changed_

_Looking in your eyes I think you know_

_That David we lost you, lost you a long time ago_

* * *

 

They make the most of their precious time together before Kyoutani flies back to Tokyo. Yahaba takes them to a coffee shop that Kyoutani doesn’t recognize and they talk small talk and both of them wish for more but know it’s unrealistic.

You can’t fix what’s been broken for so long, Kyoutani supposes.

I want to try, Yahaba asserts.

They don’t say this though. They split the bill, hug stiffly and part ways, each with the other’s phone number in hand.

* * *

 

Kyoutani’s apartment is rough and messy and unfinished, like a fight parted too soon in the streets. His safety equipment and tools lie strewn about half-complete do-it-yourself projects, and his sink is piled high with dirty dishes. There’s an open packet of paper plates next to the sink. Whenever he’s home, he texts Yahaba.

Yahaba lives neatly. He waters his pot plants every morning, and he shops religiously at Muji. In the evenings after long shifts he lies down on his sofa and texts Kyoutani. Texting reminds him of the world outside of work. Kyoutani is a perfect indulgence.

They argue via text, falling back into their high school routine. They miss the physicality, but neither of them bring this up in their daily conversations. To do that would be to admit weakness, to admit that they might want more.

* * *

 

Kyoutani breaks first. He aches all over and stares at the illuminated screen of his phone until his eyes sting. His closes his eyes and dials Yahaba’s number, knowing that he wouldn’t dare to answer the phone at this hour. The call goes to message bank, and an automated voice tells him to leave a detailed message.

“I miss you Yahaba. There’s… there’s like, a hole in my life where you’re meant to fit.” Kyoutani massages his temple and holds the phone away from him. This was an awful idea. They weren’t meant for anything other than an unstable friendship. “Maybe I love you.” He hangs up and throws his phone across the room.

_When the evening pulls the sun down,_

_And the day is almost through,_

_Oh, the whole world it is sleeping,_

_But my world is you._

* * *

 

While Kyoutani is carrying wooden beams across a site, and while Yahaba is prescribing new medication to one of his regular patients, their thoughts wander to each other.

Kyoutani thinks about the Yahaba that he knew in high school; a boy who was embarrassed to hold hands, who helped him study, who got perfect grades. A boy who listened to hard drums and heavy bass and screaming vocals because he needed a break from the pressures of school and his family. Then he thinks about the Yahaba he saw in Sendai. The man who was worn down and beaten by the world, who looked empty and fragile, but who was working overtime almost every night.

Yahaba thinks about Kyoutani’s old bleached blonde hair, and remembers when he finally convinced him to just let it grow out natural. He thinks about Kyoutani always attracting dogs, and how gentle he was with them. He recalls how Kyoutani looked at the funeral; broad and strong and still unsure of himself. He’d looked like he had a life he needed to return to, and Yahaba knew he wanted to be a part of that life, but he couldn’t say it. Kyoutani was the person he needed in his life to take care of him, but he had been ignoring all the signs. Yahaba’s phone sat on his desk. He didn’t need to listen to the voicemail again to know that, maybe, he loved Kyoutani too.  

Yahaba didn’t text Kyoutani after the he listened to the voicemail message. Instead, he booked a one-way ticket to Tokyo.

* * *

 

_I've come to tell you all the truth_

_Though you always had the proof of it_

In Tokyo, the bright city lights bleed into pools of colour along the streets, and Yahaba’s journey to find Kyoutani’s apartment building paints him all the colours of the rainbow.

Kyoutani’s building is blue, and Yahaba climbs the stairs in shades of midday and midnight. The door to his apartment is clean and unassuming, and Yahaba knocks three times and clutches onto the corners of his coat.

When Kyoutani opens the door and his eyes blow wide and Yahaba throws his arms around him and they both start tearing up, Yahaba knows that he’s found a new home and a new family in Kyoutani, and Kyoutani knows that everything will be alright for both of them.

//

**Act 4**

And so it ends, when tears and confessions bridge a gap and two men fall back in love. Their families tell them it’s a mistake, and they avoid their sons and pretend as if they no longer exist. It’s hard, harder than they ever expected love would be, but they’re willing to make it work. They don’t give up on each other. In a way, they never had, they just needed time.

Sometimes they sit together and cry for the loss of their families, but not often. There’s no need to dwell on the past, says one to comfort the other. You have a family in me.

I think we were meant to find each other, says one.

Maybe the universe had it in for us, says the other.

**Author's Note:**

> Music, in order:  
> [Featherstone - The Paper Kites](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0IDiVQxZYg)  
> [Pittsburgh - The Amity Affliction](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vu3xGr-lNVI)  
> [Heartbeats - José González](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-liyr-Xq3E)  
> [Spirit Bird - Xavier Rudd](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TmxSxKxBbQE)  
> [David - Passenger](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3DGIRJcTO88)  
> [Bloom - The Paper Kites](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8inJtTG_DuU)  
> [Can't Take My Eyes Off You - Cary Brothers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wOj7MFXyXiQ)


End file.
